Holy Triduum and Easter
by Cosette 24601
Summary: A series of one-shots mixing Narnia and the three days of the Holy Triduum. 1) Peter Washes the Feet of the Narnians 2) Caspian Learns Aslan's Death 3) Easter Vigil Baptism 4) Easter Service
1. Holy Thursday

**If enough people like it, I may extend this story past this weekend and add other religious holidays, but I plan for this to only by the Holy Triduum and Easter. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia and even more obviously do not own the Bible. **

"That was incredibly rude," Susan said coldly, walking into her brother's room without bothering to ask for permission. Peter ignored her, pounding a fist into his pillow. Susan rolled her eyes and that and said, "And that, childish and petty." She curled up onto his bed behind him and wrapped her arms around his chest. He tensed, but then relaxed and allow her to comfort him. This was rather common for the two of them. Without any parents in Narnia, they often acted like parents to each other, especially when one of them was upset.

"I didn't mean to get so angry at that otter. But it was more just… the final straw. After everything that's been going on," Peter said, running his hands furiously through his hair. Susan rubbed his back comfortingly. She understood that this first year of the reign had been incredibly difficult but had still hoped her brother could have handled the pressure better. He finally turned to face her after a few minutes. "I should probably go back out there, shouldn't I?"

"Only if you think you're capable of reigning in your temper," Susan said sternly. "Which I know you are not calm enough for that yet. Lucy and Edmund can take care of court for the rest of the day."

"I can't just sit here and do nothing!" Peter protested stubbornly.

"Well…" Susan said in a voice which made Peter wince, knowing he wasn't going to like what she was about to say. "You could stay here and think about how you're going to make it up to everyone."

"Make what up?" Peter asked sharply, not liking the criticism. His voice would have sent any of his subjects cowering in fear, but Susan only rolled her eyes, used to her brother's volatile moods.

"You've been rather harsh these past few days. And… even a bit haughty. You've been throwing your title into people's faces, including at Edmund yesterday when all he was doing was trying to keep you from giving an edict that would end up hurting Narnia more than helping it," Susan said, shaking her head in disapproval.

Peter winced at the memory. The hurt in his brother's eyes was still a painful memory. He had meant to apologize, but never got around to doing it. He resolved that next time he saw Edmund, no matter who was around, he would beg his brother's forgiveness. "So what do you suggest?" Peter said, acquiescing to his sister's suggestion.

Susan smiled and tousled his hair. "It'll only be sincere if it's something that _you_ decide you want to do."

Peer nodded thoughtfully. "You're right."

Susan gently kissed her brother on the cheek and swept out of the room. He threw himself down on his bed, thinking over what she said.

An hour later, Peter still had thought of nothing. At least nothing that would come off as even remotely sincere. It just didn't seem like words would be enough to cover it this time. He sighed and got up. He looked at himself in the mirror.

"Is this the face of a tyrant or a king?" he whispered to himself. He tried to be a good king. But he wasn't perfect. And he was young, too young perhaps. Teenager hormones made it hard to keep his temper. He shook his head. He had to stop blaming things on hormones. He was the one who had made the mistakes. He was the one who had gone off, losing his temper and several of his subjects over the past few days. He was the one who had bossed Edmund around like a servant rather than a fellow king chosen by Aslan himself and beloved brother who had saved his life. He was the one who had even snapped at his sisters, the two sweetest girls in either of the worlds, at least in his mind. He hardly deserved to be a king, much less a High King.

"Your majesty," a timid voice said. Peter glanced at the mirror again. Edmund had entered and was even giving a shallow bow. Peter winced. He knew Edmund was only acting so formally and subserviently out of fear from how Peter had been acting. Peter sat back down on his bed and patted the area next to him, hoping this would make Edmund realized that Peter wasn't meaning to hurt him. But Edmund wasn't even looking at him, staring instead at the floor just a meter or so in front of him. "Sire, I have prepared you a report for the court cases after you…left." The words "your majesty" and "sire" might have been words of respect, but when Edmund used them when it was just the two of them alone, it was the worst punishment Peter could ever receive.

"Thank you. That is very helpful," Peter said, hoping Edmund be pleasantly surprised by the compliment. He saw Edmund's eyes flicker up for a second, but he quickly averted his gaze once again.

"So… um, I'll just leave the report here on your dresser?" Edmund asked, inching over to put it there, on the other side of the room from where Peter was sitting.

"Sure, whatever you want, Ed," Peter said, getting up and beginning to walk towards his brother. Edmund quickly put down the report and hurried out of the room before Peter could come up to him. Peter sped up and followed him out, but Edmund had already disappeared.

Peter angrily reentered his room and slammed the door behind himself. He was furious with himself for not taking the opportunity to apologize. But he was just so bad at feelings… and especially at putting them into words. Heck, most of the time Susan and Edmund helped write his speeches for him. Peter was a man of action. But forgiveness isn't something that could be taken at swordpoint.

Peter sighed and reached for the report Edmund had left. It seemed that his two siblings had done a good job. Peter wondered even more why Aslan had made him the High King. He had none of Susan's caring touch which made everyone feel cared for and important. Edmund managed to make compromises that generally left everyone happy, a feat that Peter found practically impossible. And Lucy was clearly their subjects' favorite ruler, even though the Narnians were loyal to all their rulers.

Peter jumped up at the sound of a roar. Roaring wasn't too unusual at Cair Paravel, but this roar was engraved in his heart. It was _His_ roar.

"Aslan? Aslan? I've failed you," Peter cried desperately. He could not see the Lion anywhere and there weren't many places a lion of his size could be hiding in Peter's chambers. He heard a roar again and could have sworn it came from a book lying by his bed. He frowned, not recognizing the book. And the maids cleaned his room daily, so even if he had left a book out and forgotten it, it would have been long cleaned up. Peter picked it up and began reading. It chronicled the reign of King Frank the First and Queen Helen the First. Peter sighed. It seemed that Aslan, for whatever reason, wanted him to read this book. But Peter had other issues to worry about. Surely reading such a long book could wait a bit. There was another roar and the pages flipped of their own accord. When they settled down, the book was open to a story entitled "Mandatum."

He knew this story. King Frank had borrowed the idea from a story in their own world, one he had heard every year at church. And it had worked for King Frank, to show his humility. Of course, that had been a trait he was known for, whereas Peter was afraid that the Narnians thought of him more as an arrogant tyrant. None had said so, but he had seen fear in their eyes every time he had become angry.

Edmund dressed and went down to the banquet room. Peter had ordered that he, amongst several other inhabitants of Cair Paravel. He didn't want to go, afraid of what Peter might be planning. His brother had been capricious of late. Edmund knew his brother always meant well deep down, but the past year had been hard on him. Edmund just wished his brother would realize that everyone wanted to help him. But when Edmund had tried to step in the other day when he knew Peter was making a mistake in raising the taxes in the Lone Islands – it might have been a quick solution to a few problems, but could have easily, and even likely, lead to revolt, thus resulting in more financial problems down the road – Peter had been furious with him, saying that Edmund was his subject and was not to contradict him. Edmund had assumed he actually meant it this time. This wasn't a first, but usually one of the girls would calm Peter down and he'd give an apology. A curt, somewhat insincere one, but an apology nonetheless. This time, Lucy hadn't been there, and Peter had accused Susan of insubordination as well, but thankfully that only made Susan roll her eyes. If Peter had hurt her with his words, Edmund wasn't so sure that he would have kept from an all-out fight with Peter.

"Brother, dear," a cheery voice said. He smiled as Lucy came up to him and gave him a peck on the cheek. "You look so upset."

"It's nothing, I'm fine," he assured her. She had missed most of the times when Peter lost his temper, and Edmund and Susan were loathe to ruin her image of her loving oldest brother. Especially while the two of them still held out hope of it just being a difficult phase that Peter was going through. Which they didn't exactly blame him for, since all of them had been feeling extremely stressed and overwhelmed this past year. But he really needed to control himself before he made a mistake his siblings couldn't help him with. But Edmund was resolved that his brother could get past this. And he was resolved that no matter what, he would be there for his brother, just like how his brother went to Aslan to seek help in getting him from the White Witch's clutches after he had betrayed them. Edmund owed it to his brother to return the unconditional forgiveness, as hard as it was with his brother putting him down regularly.

When the two youngest Pevensies entered the room, Edmund was confused. His, Lucy's, and Susan's regular dining chairs were all set out. But Peter's chair was gone, replaced by a plain wooden chair. Edmund sat down at his assigned seat and glanced over to Susan who was sitting a bit further down. She mouthed to him, "Do you know…?" looking from him, to the chair, and back. Edmund shrugged, mystified. After everyone had been seated, Peter finally entered the banquet room. He was wearing a simple tunic and trousers, rather than royal robes fit for a fine meal.

"Friends," he began simply. Edmund's eyebrows shot up. Was Peter actually attempting a speech on his own? This could potentially end really, really badly. But all the Narnians were listening attentively. No matter what, he was still their High King, Aslan's chosen. Peter continued, "I've been… I… The past few weeks – months even – I've been kinda an arrogant jerk."

If they hadn't been fully paying attention at first, they were absolutely attentive now. The High King was admitting his faults? Edmund leaned in a bit towards his brother. Peter rubbed his hand awkwardly up and down his arm, clearly not comfortably apologizing. "Everyone here knows that I'm not that great at speeches, especially apologies. So, rather than apologize through words, I've decided to use actions. There is a tradition introduced to Narnia in the time of King Frank where he would humble himself and wash the feet, hooves, claws, and such of his fellow Narnians."

Edmund had never heard of such a traditions, but the Narnians seemed to be nodding. Washing feet was not uncommon in Cair Paravel, where creatures were in fact more likely to not wear shoes that they were to wear shoes. But of course it was the servants who washed others' feet if someone didn't simply wash their feet themselves. Something was tugging at the back of Edmund's mind. Something about washing feet. Wait, Peter said introduced, not begun by… that would imply King Frank learned it somewhere… that's it! There was the story of washing feet in his home world as well. Peter walked over to the side of the room where Edmund had not noticed that a few buckets filled with water were lined up. Peter slowly, silently went around the room, starting from those of the lowest rank and working his way up. The Narnians all seemed to shocked to protest their High King humbling himself so.

Soon Peter made his way to Lucy, who seemed to be having trouble keeping from giggling. Well, at least one person was cheerful. Then Peter seemed hesitant. Edmund was next. Susan interfered however and brought Peter to herself, allowing Edmund to the last one. As Peter finished washing her feet, Susan smiled gently at him, taking his hand in hers as he rose. He smiled back, realizing as Edmund did that her smile meant she had forgiven him. Not that Susan ever held grudges in the first place. But after her, Peter had no choice but to face Edmund next.

"Don't," Edmund muttered. "You don't have to do this. I… I don't deserve this." He tucked his feet under the chair where Peter couldn't reach them easily.

To his surprise, Peter grabbed his hands and looked him straight in the eyes. Edmund saw desperation and pain and the bitterness that results from being rejected. He quickly realized that Peter thought Edmund despised him. Quite the contrary. Edmund didn't feel that he deserved Peter's humble care. After all, he was the one who had turned to the White Witch in a fit of jealously. He could hardly condemn Peter, who had yet to do anything other than say harsh words that Edmund now knew for sure he didn't mean.

"Please, let me," Peter pleaded. "I… I have to do this for you. Or… for myself really."

Edmund understood. Peter wouldn't be able to live with himself if he couldn't do this for him. Edmund would only been able to forgive himself after he practically died saving Peter by breaking the Witch's wand. He nodded and moved his feet so Peter could easily reach them. Edmund felt incredibly awkward, having his proud brother humbled at his feet. But Peter seemed at ease, something Edmund would have never guessed. He was used to his brother being magnificent, mighty, great. But now Edmund was realizing that most of it was a façade. Deep down, Peter was still a young boy, scared of the mighty role that had been thrust upon him so suddenly. He talked large and angrily because he was insecure, frightened. And Edmund was determined to help him with that.

Later that evening Edmund went to Peter's chambers. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, looking at a book, running his fingers through his hair. He was so distracted that he did not even notice Edmund's entrance. Earlier today Edmund had been afraid to approach his brother. But he had no such hesitation now, especially since he knew his brother needed him. Edmund knew how hard it was to admit you were wrong and to forgive one's own self. He sat down next to his brother and slung an arm around his shoulder. Peter looked up, startled by the unexpected movement. He grinned widely when he saw that Edmund was sitting next to him with a friendly smile.

"Ed, I know I should have come talked to you sooner, but I… I didn't know what to say. It – "

"Yeah, I know. You're not good at coming up talking about your emotions and all those sappy things," Edmund said teasingly.

"Yeah. But I should have. You're my brother. If I can't talk –"

"Pete?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up," Edmund said, rolling his eyes. Peter laughed. Edmund grinned and laughed. "Pete, you didn't make me have to try to come up with the non-existent perfect words to mend what had been done after I went to the White Witch; I'm not about to make you try to come up with words. I just… I just came to tell you that I'm here for you. Anything you need."

"There is something I want to ask you to do."

"Name it."

"If I ever treat you anything less than what you deserve, hit me until you knock some sense into me, alright?" Peter said teasingly. Edmund grabbed his brother and buried his head into his brother's chest. Peter held him tight. "I'm so glad that you aren't mad at me for being a tyrant."

"No!" Edmund shouted. Peter drew back, shocked. Edmund took a breath to calm himself and said, "Pete, you're not a tyrant. I don't think you ever could be. You care about others too much."

"I don't even get why I was made High King. Any of the three of you would fill my job so much better," Peter said.

"How? We're only who we are because you're our rock, our support," Edmund protested. "And you proved yourself a worthy High King today."

"Thank you," Peter said softly. "You know, maybe we should make this a tradition again, as it was before."

"With one change," Edmund said. "I'm going to do it with you." Peter was about to protest, but his brother's eyes were steely and resolute.

"As will we." Edmund and Peter looked up and saw that Susan and Lucy had been lingering by the door.

Lucy added, "After all, our first duty as kings and queens is to serve the Narnians, not the other way around."

"But you two have never needed reminding of that," Peter protested.

"It is not a reminder but what is right," Susan said simply. She took each of her brothers' hands and Lucy took their other hands. Peter knew that his family would always be there to remind him that he was a servant of Aslan and to the people of Narnia, not a tyrant.


	2. Good Friday

"Tonight's story will not be so happy, terrible in fact, but if it is in fact true, then it is the most important story to remember from the Golden Ages, my prince," Doctor Cornelius said to his young student as they gazed at the stars, the pretense they often used for their secret meetings about Narnia. Caspian looked a bit put out that the story was going to be unhappy. Cornelius was unsure whether the story had even a grain of truth, what with one of the kings acting very differently from how every other story of the Golden Ages characterized him, and almost decided against telling it.

"What's the story about?" Caspian said, shifting uncomfortably. All the stories he had heard up to that point had been about daring knights, mighty kings and queens, fabulous battles.

"The death of Aslan," the tutor said gravely, peering at the young boy over his glasses.

"Aslan! But he can't be dead! I thought you said you believed he still existed!" Caspian exclaimed, jumping to his feet in protest.

"That I did. That I did. The story did not end with him still dead," the tutor assured.

"People don't stay dead?" Caspian gasped, wide-eyed. "Does that mean my father may return?"

"No! Ah, my prince, I fear I am doing a horrible job of telling this story. Let me start at the beginning. Do you recall the story of the Just King Edmund being tempted by the Turkish Delight?"

"Yes!" Caspian said, proud that he remembered. Narnian history was his best subject, even though it was only taught in secret. "The White Witch told him she would give him delightful treats and make him a prince, but he said no because he was loyal to his family."

"That is what your nurse told you, and I let you continue believing so, unsure if you were ready to hear what some say actually happened. But it is only a version of the story. We may never know what version is the truth," the professor mused.

"So… what is this version?" Caspian asked slowly, sitting back down on the ledge.

The professor began the tale. Caspian could hardly believe that one of the kings of old would have betrayed the others over so little. When the professor got to King Edmund going to the White Witch's castle, Caspian jumped up and protested again. "Why would he do that?

"As I said before, I do not know if this version is true. But even if it is, it says he quickly realized the mistake he made and wanted to return to his family, but the Witch held him captive and treated him cruelly, using him as bait to try to lure his family in," the professor said, laying a hand on the prince's shoulder to get him to sit and listen. While Caspian was an attentive student when it came to his lessons in Narnian history, he had a bad habit of interrupting constantly. But Caspian kept his tongue until he got to the part when the White Witch made a claim on King Edmund's blood. But Cornelius could hardly answer his questions, not comprehending the Deep Magic himself. From the moment he began talking about Aslan leaving camp, Caspian grew grave and silent. He wondered if the young prince sensed what Aslan had offered. He had hardly gotten to where Aslan was killed when he heard noises down the hall. "We must go."

"But Aslan just died!" Caspian protested, although he was getting to his feet as well. "How does he come back?"

"If they hear us speak of _him_ they will send me away and keep a better watch on you," the professor reminded him.

Caspian had hoped that they would finish the story the next night. None of the other stories had ever filled him with so much dread, even though he knew from his professor's garbled introduction that Aslan came back to life. But still he could hardly sleep, wondering at the sacrifice Aslan had made. If King Edmund truly had been a traitor, then did he not deserve to die? His uncle Miraz had executed men for much less.

But the next night, Caspian did not get the rest of the story. His aunt gave birth to son and Caspian had to escape his uncle's assassins. And when his professor showed up in the woods, he had no time to ask then thanks to Miraz's men being soon behind. And then _they_ came. The Kings of Old themselves. And they even said that the girls were off with Aslan himself! But Edmund frightened Caspian. He had no clue if the dreadful story was true.

The day before Peter was to face Miraz, Caspian ended up finding himself alone in a room with Edmund.

"Perhaps the war will be over so that we could celebrate the Resurrection of Aslan properly tomorrow," he suddenly mused. "Unfortunately we could not celebrate his death properly today."

"So… that story is true? Aslan did die on the Stone Table?" Caspian asked hesitantly. The implicit question lingered in the air. _Is it true you were a traitor?_

"Yes, because of my mistake," Edmund said flatly, staring at the wall. His face betrayed none of his emotions, but Caspian noticed his hands had balled up into fists. Caspian remained silent, afraid to push the traitor king over the edge. Edmund glanced at him again. "Do they still speak of that part of the story? Do you know it?"

Caspian slowly nodded, afraid that the king would be angry that his treachery was remembered.

"Good," Edmund said absentmindedly.

"Good?" Caspian choked out.

"What good comes out of a forgotten mistake? Better to remember it so that lessons can be learned from it and the mistake is not repeated," he said gravely. In that moment Caspian truly realized that this was one of the Kings of Old, not just the young boy his body made him seem like.

"If you don't mind my asking it, how did you used to celebrate Aslan's death?" Caspian asked, growing bolder. He was still a bit frightened and in awe of the king, but he was so open with telling of his own treachery that Caspian felt permitted to speak of anything before him.

"We would spend the day fasting. The young and the old ate, but all able-bodied creatures fasted to honor Aslan's sacrifice. Around midday, we would all gather at Cair Paravel. Peter was usually the one who spoke first, but on this day I always asked to speak first, which he allowed. The story of that day was retold up to the moment when Aslan and the Witch made that horrid deal."

Edmund had begun pacing at that point. Caspian's eyes followed his every moment. Neither the Nurse nor the Professor had ever mentioned this. "Then what?"

"Then the girls would lead us as we walked to the Stone Table. Several of the smaller creatures would ride on the backs of the larger ones so that we could all keep pace together. Once there, the girls would walk to the Stone Table first. There they recounted… what they saw."

Caspian's eyes grew wide. "The Queens… they saw him die?"

Edmund nodded gravely. "Thankfully my sisters are not like the fainthearted princesses of many other countries, but it still marked them forever. To this day, they remember each horrid detail. I… I can recount it for you, but it would not have the same effect as hearing it from them."

Caspian could tell from his stammer that even though he seemed willing to, he did not want to speak of it. Although Caspian was as eager as ever to hear stories of the Golden Age, he did not want Edmund to have to recount something that clearly bothered him so.

"So what happens after they talk about that?" Caspian prompted.

Edmund gestured for Caspian to follow him and walked to the room where the Stone Table was. "We would genuflect here and begin praying." Caspian was startled when Edmund took his hand and knelt, facing the Stone Table. Caspian went down on his knees as well, realizing Edmund was reenacting the sacred celebration.

"O Aslan, Who by reason of Thy burning love for us hast willed to be crucified and to shed Thy Most Precious Blood for the redemption and salvation of our souls, look down upon us here gathered together in remembrance of Thy most sorrowful Death, fully trusting in Thy mercy; cleanse us from sin by Thy grace, sanctify our toil, give unto us and unto all those who are dear to us our daily bread, sweeten our sufferings, bless our families and to those so sorely afflicted, grant Thy peace, which is the only true peace, so that by obeying Thy commandments we may come at last to the glory of your country," Edmund chanted, eyes closed and face turned upwards. Caspian oddly felt at peace. Edmund then pulled his hand away and crawled to the Stone Table. He kissed it reverently and slowly backed and prayed silently. Caspian mimicked his motions, but was unsure how to pray, having never done so before. The Professor had said he had never found a copy of any Narnian prayers. Caspian heard movement by the entrance and turned to see Peter entering. After a moment of confusion, Peter seemed to realize what was going on and joined them in silent prayer.

Caspian decided to make up words to a prayer. _Hello? Aslan, sir? I'm not really sure how to talk to you. But… well, I guess I just want to thank you for sending Dr. Cornelius to me. And for my escape from my uncle. And for helping me find the Narnians and for them actually accepting me. Oh! And for sending the Kings of Old of course! And for whatever it is you and the Queens of Old are doing. Please keep us all safe tomorrow. The High King especially as he faces my uncle, and the rest of us if the Telmarines try anything._

Soon other Narnians seemed to be filing in, each looking confused until they realized the three boys were praying. Some of the Black Dwarves and other creatures which still didn't quite believe in Aslan crept back out of the room, but most of the creatures stayed and soon it was filled with Narnians silently praying. 

Caspian suddenly heard Trufflehunter say, "That this day may be holy, good and peaceful."

Several of the Narnians responded, "We pray to you, O Lord."

Caspian looked at Peter and Edmund, but they looked just as surprised as he. This had been added since their time.

Reepicheep then said, "That we may be pardoned and forgiven for our sins and offences."

All responded with, "We pray to you, O Lord." Caspian caught on and responded as well.

Glenstorm said, "That there may be peace in Narnia and for the whole world."

Again, all responded, "We pray to you, O Lord."

One of the dogs gave a strange look to the kings before saying, "That we may be bound together by your Love, in communion with the Kings and Queens of Old and all your faithful servants, entrusting one another and all our life to you."

The edges of Edmund's and Peter's faces tugged into a small smile at the realization that they had become part of the Narnians' prayers.

Everyone responded one last time, "We pray to you, O Lord."

Slowly, one by one, each Narnian present went up to the Stone Table and kissed it reverently, as Edmund had earlier.

Soon Caspian was alone with the Kings.

"Do you think we can win tomorrow?" he asked quietly.

"If it is Aslan's will," Peter responded before also leaving.

"King Edmund?" Caspian asked hesitantly. "Was Aslan's sacrifice really just for you? Or was it for all of Narnia somehow?"

Edmund simply smiled and placed a hand on Caspian's shoulder. Caspian nodded. Edmund hesitated for a moment, then said, "Promise me this. When you are king of Narnia, you will observe the death of Aslan. And my part, my treachery will not be a hidden secret, but a message for all to learn from."

"I swear I will," Caspian said fervently. And he did. Every year, he honored his promise and observed the death of Aslan. Although none were forced to partake in the observance, most of Narnia, Telmarines and Narnians alike, came to Cair Paravel and travelled to the Stone Table to observe the death of Aslan. The tradition was never again forgotten, passed down through every generation until the year of Narnia's last battle.


	3. Holy Saturday

"Are you ready yet?" his eldest cousin's voice hissed impatiently through the air, just loud enough for Eustace to hear but low enough that it would not wake his parent who thankfully slept early.

Eustace threw the rope out the window and began climbing down. The first few times he had tried this it had been difficult, but he had done this so many times now that he barely thought about it, especially since this time his cousins were there at the bottom, waiting for him. The moment his foot stepped on solid ground, Lucy squealed and gave him a tight hug.

"Hey, hey, I just saw you this morning," he said, amused.

"Yes, but that was a boring family dinner," she said, rolling her eyes. Eustace quickly embraced his three other cousins.

"I'm so glad you have followed through with this," Susan said with a motherly smile. Eustace smiled. Ever since he became close to his siblings, Susan had been the caring mother he never had. And Peter tended to vacillate between acting like a brother and a father, but either way much more caring than his actual father.

"I'm just glad that you found the excuse to get your parents to come visit mine so you can be here," he responded gallantly.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Edmund said with a grin, as Peter slapped Eustace on the back fondly.

"I still find this all rather ironic," Susan commented as they piled into the car. "Most boys want to sneak _out_ of church, not sneak behind their parents' back to go _to_ church."

Everyone chuckled at that comment.

"Well, don't all teenagers want to be rebellious?" Eustace joked back, leaning forward to talk with her.

"I'm so glad you're actually going through with this though, cousin," Susan said more seriously, leaning back to face him. "It's a big step for you."

"Not really. I mean, I've already pledged my life to Aslan, as we all have," Eustace said gravely. Susan and Peter were still a bit surprised at how profound their cousin can now be. They knew he had changed, but since they had only seen him a few times since then, it still surprised them.

"You know, Eustace, I'm rather proud of you. All – _Peter, where in the world do you think you are going?!" _she screeched. She quickly busied herself with looking at the maps to undo the damage done from Peter's poor navigation skills.

"I know where I'm going!" Peter protested.

"Hm? Just like you knew where you were going when we went to find Caspian and the Narnians?" Susan shot back. She moved the map so he could glance at it. "Look. You're sending us towards a street that'll force us to go the exact opposite way we want to go!"

"You nervous?" Edmund asked, ignoring his older siblings' bickering.

"Yeah, loads," Eustace said frankly.

"It'll be a lovely service." Lucy hummed. "I always enjoy going to Easter Vigil."

"You should have seen the confusion our parents had when we were convincing them that we shouldn't go to Easter Vigil this year," he said with a chortle.

When they piled out of the car in the church parking lot, a mousy, brown-haired girl saw them and walked over.

"_Eustace?"_ she asked incredulously. "I thought your parents were atheist."

"Shhh!" Eustace said. "They don't know that I'm being baptized."

"Who's this?" Peter inquired.

"This is Jill Pole. We go to school together," Eustace explained. "Pole, these are my cousins. Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy Pevensie."

"Yes, well, I still don't understand why you would want to be baptized when most of the time you hang out with _Them,_" she said, a bit snottily.

"I haven't in a while," Eustace protested. "Please, Pole, be a sport and promise you won't tell my folks about this."

"Sure," Pole said, shrugging her shoulders. "I don't particularly fancy a talk with them anyways."

"So why are you here?" Eustace asked.

"My folks have a friend getting baptized. I should go back to them actually," she said.

"Bye!" Eustace called after her as she flounced off.

"I didn't particularly like her," Susan said, shaking her head.

"Well, she still thinks I'm the brat I was before," Eustace said sheepishly.

"Then she's not bright enough to see that you've completely changed," Lucy said, taking her cousin's hand and patting it.

"I guess I should go get ready," Eustace said after a bit.

"The three of us will go find seats," Peter said. They came together for one last family hug before Eustace headed to where the other candidates for baptism were congregating and Edmund sat near the front since he was reading one of the readings.

The three other Pevensies found seats together and waiting anxiously for when Eustace was to be baptized. Professor Kirke and Miss Plummer soon joined them. Edmund remembered when Eustace had first told them he wanted to be baptized. He had been so nervous that Edmund had thought that Eustace was going to tell them something horrible had happened. Eustace almost didn't go through with it, what with having to sneak behind his parents back for all church events. But they had reminded him that they were supposed to find Aslan in this world, and Eustace's resolve had strengthened. Edmund had helped Eustace with learning religion in this world. He had already begun studying theology and was eager to help his cousin learn it too. Eustace had considered waiting so that his cousin could be the one to baptize him, but then Edmund said that he was more likely to become an academic theologian rather than a priest.

Finally it was time for Eustace to be baptized. He looked so nervous. Peter wasn't sure why he seemed so scared. After all, Eustace had already been baptized in the Narnian tradition. He and Caspian alone were the only Narnians who could say that they had been baptized by all four of the Kings and Queens of Old. And the only one who could claim that Lord Diggory and Lady Polly were there to witness. Eustace had skipped school for the day to go to Diggory's house to be baptized there. It was a very makeshift ceremony, but a Narnian celebration nonetheless. And at the very moment when Eustace said the pledge to Aslan, they all swore that they heard a distant lion's roar.

The priest poured water on Eustace's head and Lucy had to hold in a laugh as he wrinkled up his nose. But then they heard a lion's roar once more, even though the rest of the congregation seemed to have not. Strangely though, Jill Pole jumped up and looked around wildly until her parents gave her a sharp look and made her sit down.

After the service was complete, the five of them all piled into the car once more.

"You all heard that right?" Eustace asked anxiously. "The roar?"

"Of course!" Lucy said. "And the Professor and Miss Plummer too."

"And your friend Pole it seemed to hear it to," Edmund commented. "What do ya figure that was about?"

"You're suppose to come back one more time, right? And no one's ever gone alone other than the short time I was there alone," Lucy commented. "Maybe the two of you will go there together."

Eustace snorted in disbelief.

"So how did you enjoy the service?" Susan said, smoothly changing the topic.

"I'm so glad I chose to be baptized here as well. I just wish…"

"Yeah?"

"I just… I wish my parents could learn about Aslan – or Jesus, rather – as well," he said a bit sadly.

"Well, stranger miracles have happened," Lucy said with a smile.

"I think one's happening right now," Susan commented. They all turned to her, wondering what the miracle might be. "Peter's actually driving the correct way home."

Peter snickered and purposely switched lanes to travel the wrong way just to annoy his sister.

"_Peter!"_


	4. Easter Sunday

**In addition to not owning Narnia or the Bible (duh), I also don't own any prayers or songs mentioned in this or previous chapters (sorry, a bit remiss there). Those are all derived from prayers and songs that I know, with words changed to make them more Narnian.  
**

She hadn't been to a church service since the funeral. It reminded her too much of them. And… that game they used to play… No, she knew it wasn't a game… but … no, was it? But either way, there was definitely something about a Lion like a God… she remembered him vividly – no how could she vividly remember something that was just in their heads? She shook her head. But whether it was a game or real, it hurt to go to church. She was confused though, why the church seemed so crowded today. Overflowing in fact. With all the people nicely dressed, she almost thought it might be a First Communion or Confirmation. But there was no one dressed in white so it couldn't be either of those. She hardly knew why she was allowing herself so near what had pained her every time she passed for the last several months, but she went up to the church anyways to ask what was going on.

"Ma'am, I'd hate to be a bother, but what is going on today?" she asked an elderly lady with kind eyes.

"Dearie, it's Easter of course!" she said with a chuckle. "Child, it's not until you're my age that you can start forgetting things like that."

"Oh, yes of course," Susan said, surprised. She had completely forgotten Easter. Christmas she had vaguely remembered since it was the same time every year, but with Easter moving around, she hadn't bothered to keep track. Now that she thought about it though, she had been seeing Easter treats in the market. She decided to try going to a service again, which she hadn't in so long. Not even Christmas. But something compelled her to keep going forward. She couldn't quite put her finger on the feeling that kept moving her forward. She was surprised that it didn't hurt as much as she thought it would. It felt like coming home, but not in the heart-wrenching way that occurred every time she went into her old home and saw where her family had once lived.

When the priest got to the resurrection story, although Susan was trying to pay attention, her mind involuntarily began having vivid flashbacks…. A lion… a roar… a girl… that girl, she was, Lucy? No, it couldn't be … a stone table… a castle…

"Aslan," slipped from her lips. She remembered it now, the… game that they played. There was a resurrection story in there, was there not? The lion Aslan had risen from the dead. He had been the sacrificial lamb… But it was all a game, wasn't it?

Later, she opened the hymnal and sang along with the congregation, "Jesus Christ is Risen today, Alleluia. Our triumphant holy day, Alleluia. Who did once upon the cross, Alleluia. Suffered to redeem our loss, Alleluia."

But then her mind heard other words at the same time, "Praise Aslan who rose today, Alleluia. Our triumphant holy day, Alleluia. Who died once to save our lives, Alleluia. Suffered to redeem our loss, Alleluia."

She gasped. The crucifix in the front of the church… the Jesus had lifted his head and looked straight at her. She looked around wildly, but no one else seemed to have noticed. She saw the outline of a lion appear on the wall behind the altar. She dropped her hymnal and ran out of the church, attracting many pitying stares from those who probably thought she was going to be sick. She collapsed on bench outside the church and began crying. She had always prided herself on how little she cried. Even at the funerals, she had remained composed and hid the mess that was inside. But perhaps she should not have held so much in. The heavy weight she had been carrying around for so long lifted teardrop by teardrop.

"Beloved," a familiar voice called. A familiar _Narnian_ voice.

"Aslan?" she asked hoarsely. She looked around. But there was no one there, lion, human, or otherwise. She must have been imagining it. After all, there was no Narnia either… but she heard it so clearly.

"Beloved," the voice said again, from somewhere behind her. She slowly turned around. There was a statue of Jesus Christ there. She knelt in front of it.

"Lord, is it you?" she asked softly.

"Beloved," the voice said a third time.

"Forgive me," she whispered, as tears began rolling down her cheek once more. "Forgive me!"

"Christ is Risen, alleluia, alleluia," she could somehow hear the priest saying even from this distance.

She then felt a gust of wind, but it felt more like a lion's breath. She smiled and whispered the response to the Pascal greeting, "He is risen indeed, alleluia, alleluia."

"Indeed," the statue repeated.

"Forgive me," Susan whispered once more. "I have forgotten my own country. I am a traitor to Narnia."

"Through my resurrection, all sins are forgiven."

Susan smiled and returned to the Easter service with the knowledge that she had been forgiven. Perhaps this meant that one day she would see her family again. One day she would be reunited with her country. One day she would be Aslan's once more. Until that time, she would do her duty of knowing Aslan in this world, a duty that she had been remiss in even though her family encouraged her to join them in that task. But now she would do it. As her duty and her repentance.


	5. Author's Note

I usually don't use author's notes, but I felt this needed clarification. I had taken this story down to lack of interest, but then Pevensies49 pointed out that several readers don't check crossovers and encouraged me to repost it as a regular story instead so more people could read it. So... here it is. Hope you enjoyed it!


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